The Amorous Nightingale

    'No,' explained Christopher, 'not in the quality of his performance, because you're unlikely to see it. Mr Eldridge will not even turn up.'

    'We made an appointment. It must be honoured.'

    'He's on the run and has most likely gone to ground.'

    'On the run? From whom?'

    'Me, Sir William.'

    'What's his offence?'

    'I'm not sure until I can question him.'

    D'Avenant was peremptory. 'Well, you'll not do that until

    I've heard him give his account of Iago,' he insisted, tossing his white hair with a flick of his head. 'Interrupt that and I'll have you thrown out.'

    'There's no need. He won't even come.'

    'Mr Redmayne, let me tell you about actors. When there is the faintest chance of employment, they'll take it. Be they on the run from you, from the law, from their wives, their families or creditors, they will attend their auditions.' He turned back to the stage. 'He'll be here.'

    Christopher was unsure what to do. Direction soon came.

    'Mr Redmayne,' snapped the old man over his shoulder.

    'Yes, Sir William?'

    'Stay out of sight.'

    Hovering between deference and resentment, Arthur Oscott led him into the drawing room. Oscott's wife stayed listening outside the door. The newcomer slapped his whip down on a table.

    'Is she secure?' he asked.

    'Completely, sir,' said Oscott.

    'No more escape attempts?'

    'None.'

    'Good.'

    'Mrs Gow doesn't have the heart for it, not since we caught her maidservant. She's very low.'

    'I hope you've treated her well, Arthur. I'll not have her abused by anyone. Do you understand that?'

    'Yes, sir.'

    'Does your wife understand it? Harriet Gow is a very precious commodity to us. We have to guard her with care. It's not long now. We'll soon be able to divide the takings and celebrate.'

    'Will we?' asked Oscott sceptically. 'There's no sign of the ransom money yet. I'm beginning to wonder if it'll ever come.'

    'Of course it will, man!' returned the other vehemently. 'They'll have to pay now. My second ransom note left them with no option. We'll have the money by dusk tomorrow.'

    'I'll believe it when I see it.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'Well, I don't wish to question your judgement, sir, but you said that the money would be paid immediately. All we had to do was to kidnap Mrs Gow and hold her for a short time.' He looked straight into his employer's eyes. 'What went wrong?'

    'Nothing.'

    'You boasted they'd never dare try to find her.'

    'I know, but they've paid for their impudence. Henry Redmayne was soundly beaten and Mary Hibbert's body was sent to them. Not that I authorised her murder,' he said rancorously, 'but it was an effective way of getting a message through to the Palace.'

    'It wasn't that effective,' said Oscott sourly. 'It hasn't stopped them from trying to hunt us down. They're still on our tail.'

    'They won't be after today. Smeek will see to that.'

    'Smeek is under lock and key in Newgate, sir.'

    The other man was stunned. 'Who put him there?'

    'Jonathan Bale - that constable you sent him to attack. He wasn't such an easy target as Henry Redmayne, sir. In other words,' he said meaningfully, 'Mr Bale is still trying to pick up our scent. I don't like it. Neither does my wife. She wonders if we should cut and run.'

    'Cut and run!' roared his companion. 'We'll do nothing of the kind. All we have to do is to sit tight until the money is paid. If they want to see Mrs Gow alive again, they must and will pay the ransom.'

    'Unless we're tracked down first.'

    'How can we be?'

    'Smeek may talk. And if they've got him, they'll soon take Ben Froggatt into custody as well. Tongues can be loosened in Newgate.'

    'So what? Smeek and Froggatt know nothing.'

    'They know that I hired them.'

    'Forget them.'

    'They know where we took Mrs Gow the first time.'

    'But they have no idea where she is now, do they? You're getting soft, Arthur,' he warned, snatching up his whip. 'That's dangerous. I need people around me I can trust - not cowards who start to shiver at the first setback.'

    'I'm no coward!' asserted Oscott, hurt by the charge.

    'Then stop sweating, man. We hold all the cards.'

    'Do we?'

    'Yes, Godammit!' snarled the other, striking the table with his whip. 'And we'll play this game through to the bitter end so that we can collect our winnings. Hear that, Arthur? Our winnings. Nothing can stop us. They'll pay up, mark my words. They have to.'

    Martin Eldridge failed before he even started. Desperate to give of his best, he did quite the opposite. His mind was distracted. Instead of concentrating on Iago's lines, he was thinking about a missing friend. His timing was off, his gestures uncertain, his grasp of the role poor. He stumbled over every speech that he attempted. Standing in the pit, Sir William D'Avenant kept inviting him to try again. Eldridge took it as a sign of kindness at first then realised that the manager was deliberately prolonging his ordeal, enjoying the humiliation of an actor he never seriously meant to employ in the first place. When he forgot the opening lines of Iago's most famous speech, Eldridge did not wait for a comment. He ran off the stage and stalked out of the theatre.

    Coming out into Portugal Street, he walked quickly past Lincoln's Inn Fields in the direction of Holborn. He was soon overtaken by a horseman who reined in his mount to block his path. Before Eldridge could complain, he had Christopher Redmayne's rapier at his throat.

    'Don't run away from me this time, Mr Eldridge.'

    'I can explain that.'

    'That's what I'm hoping. And by the way,' he said, nodding towards the theatre. 'I'm sorry if my presence hampered your performance just now. I did my best to stay out of sight.'

    Eldridge was horrified. 'You saw that travesty of acting?'

    'Lysippus was a far more suitable role for you.' Christopher dismounted and sheathed his sword. 'Where shall we talk?'

    'In the nearest tavern. I need some wine.'

    'Lead the way.'

    Christopher had no fear that he would bolt again. The disastrous visit to The Duke's Playhouse had taken all the spirit out of him. Eldridge said nothing until they were sitting at a table in the White Rose. Two glasses of wine were bought at Christopher's expense. The actor sipped his gratefully.

    'Thank you, Mr Redmayne,' he said.

    'Supposing that you tell me the truth?' suggested Christopher.

    'I might say the same about you.'